Hawkwind Space Ritual 1973

A never ending brainstorming writing session while listening to a live 1972 recording.

Collage, repetition, Burroughs, pleasure no guilt, oneness, rock 'n' roll saved my life.

falling in linear time mystic chant vocal prepare for god, falling straight ritual, falling in shamanic sick songs falling in reverse you are healed...

blood spilled swerving dervish get-down disco death, death repeated death paint with your own blood...

fucking shithouse Morrison moves so engrained now that those things are invisible...

quick sounds superhero repetition. No blockade progress is a trance of error and deviation from the norm no normcore please, weird...

like evolution founded on variety, knee-knockers and old heavy outside water, and turmeric benefits, and teeth grinders...

gradually you discard the drum circle dirty lords' slow-murder...

circular, fractal, mathematics, the last instant polaroid, the last of the archetypal-pattern-age...

the cult is composed of people that have jumped capitalist ship and/or are hunchback from reading so much...

never gonna stop, born to go space travel, no beginning no end infinite movement - an unimaginable disaster...

the default dull metallic guitar effects original space-rockers...

deep space ten sharpless stars light the sky-religion...

the soundtrack is sax 'n' flutes not in canoes, but ships with smoke-houses, tiny houses through the night always the night rebirth "tomorrow"...

of course there will be tons of cover songs not 70s style operations or symbols-as-repetition...

the longhair-beat chamber-bud of old days unity and eros flowing...

everyone is atrophy, empty space, and the center of the universe...

achieve power through circling patterns of obsession and a oneness experience in a small room no windows no doors no lazarus...

a log will remain a log, so do what thou wilt psychic balance planet...

this ain't Studio 54, or an orgone accumulator, or exposure to enough perspectives...